


Running

by Cybra



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Depression, Gen, Nightmares, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 20:51:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12240405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cybra/pseuds/Cybra
Summary: Scrooge McDuck has the misfortune of being a semi-lucid dreamer:  He can recognize he's in one, know how it's supposed to go, and remember it after he wakes up.  It's why his dreams follow a routine.However some nights he's haunted by the same nightmare that gets worse each time he has it.  He's endlessly running towards a distant golden flame with nothing to accompany him but the slapping of his webbed feet against the ground and the chant to keep running and never look back.  Tonight is one of those nights.





	Running

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 150th birthday to Scrooge McDuck! And now I’ll make him miserable to celebrate.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** _Ducktales_ belongs to the Walt Disney Company

_Slap!  Slap!  Slap!  Slap!_

Spat-covered webbed feet struck the ground in an endless pattern, their owner running ever onward, gaze locked forward.

_Run!  Run as far and fast as you can!  Don’t stop!  And never ever look back!_

Scrooge had the misfortune of being a semi-lucid dreamer.  He would know he was dreaming, even know the patterns a dream was supposed to take, and remember his dreams long after he opened his eyes.  It was why he typically saw his dreams on a schedule and knew when they were getting scrambled.

But sometimes his subconscious abandoned the routine in favor of nightmares.  Or, rather, it was the same nightmare with more added to it each time.

_Slap!  Slap!  Slap!  Slap!_

Somewhere far ahead of him a golden fire flickered as he ran, beckoning him.  He aged from small boy to steamboat captain to cowboy to prospector to businessman, the years streaking past him in a nauseating kaleidoscope.  When he squinted, he could see the silhouettes of his family against the flames’ glow.

_Run!  Run as far and fast as you can!  Don’t stop!  And never ever look back!_

He didn’t look but he knew beyond any doubt that behind him were the years he’d spent alone in a world where more people wanted him dead than alive and the sacrifices he’d made during them.  If he looked back and gazed at what he’d given up to ensure his family’s prosperity, he would stop.  Everything would stop.  Then he would cease to be as it all overtook him.

_Slap!  Slap!  Slap!  Slap!_

He could see it now:  He could see the glorious golden bonfire blazing inside the front gates of Castle McDuck.  He’d never gotten this close before!  His beak spread wide with pure joy and tears stung his eyes.  He could _see_ his family dancing, laughing, talking in the warmth of the cheerful blaze.  Not even the knowledge of what lurked behind him could dampen his delight.  Not even the moors filled with the endless wealth of diamond dew around him could pry his eyes away from that bonfire and the people around it.

Coming into view, Della paused in her dancing, looking back at him with a blank expression on her face.  She wasn’t happy to see him but she wasn’t mad at his appearance either.  She was just indifferent as if nothing mattered anymore.

He felt his heart turn to water.

_Run!  Run as far and fast as you can!  Don’t stop!  And never ever look back!_

He strained to double his pace, but his body was refusing to obey him.  He stepped on a patch of grass dusted with dew and sliced his foot on the edges of diamond shards.  Now the tears were equal parts physical pain and emotional desperation.  He had to hurry!  He had to reach her!

_Slap!  Slap!  Slap!  Slap!_

“Della!  Don’t!” he screamed, reaching forward but much too far away to grab her.

She turned away from him, stepping closer to the bonfire.  He was close enough to see the Spear atop the pile of treasures and wealth he’d worked his whole life to attain that made up the blaze.

“Stop!  Stop right now!  Do you hear me?!” he shrieked, unable to summon the famous McDuck temper to put any threat into his words.

_Run!  Run as far and fast as you can!  Don’t stop!  And never ever look back!_

She ignored him, walking closer to the bonfire, eyes locked on the Spear.

**“Della!”**

He was almost there!  He could stop this!  He could!  He’d tamed wild animals, fought monsters, and faced off against things too horrible to name!  He could reach her!  _He could save her!_

She glanced back at him.

_Slap!  Slap!  Slap!  Slap!_

_Run!  Run as far and fast as you can!  Don’t stop!  And never ever look back!_

She leaped onto the bonfire.

Scrooge had the misfortune of being a semi-lucid dreamer.  Normally, he would remember even awake the details of a dream he’d had.  However, he would never clearly recall what he screamed as he watched through eyes blurred with tears as she disappeared in golden flames.

The dancing, laughing, and talking stopped as the family went silent.  Then they turned their backs on him, and Castle McDuck’s front gate closed.

His momentum caused him to slam into the thick wood.  He clawed at the gate, desperately sobbing as his fingers bled from scratching away at the door.  He could hear his family on the other side, mourning for Della and ignoring his pleas to let him in, let him make this right, take everything he had, do whatever they wanted to him, _just don’t leave him alone!_

Unending moors of wealth surrounded him, but all he wanted was inside the castle gate.  He wept and pounded the wood uselessly with his fists until they started to bleed as well.

Fog started to swirl around him, muffling what little he could still hear of his family until it silenced them completely.  He wailed in anguish, leaning his forehead against the gate as he watered the dust before it with his tears.  He squeezed his eyes shut as his sobs eventually quieted to tears silently falling.

He closed his eyes and turned around, head bowed.  He slumped back against the thick stone wall that had once been the front gate before sliding to the ground, his aching legs no longer able to support him.  He’d been running his whole life towards a goal that no longer had meaning.  Without that sense of purpose, he collapsed in on himself, empty inside.

He opened his eyes, raised his head, and gazed hopelessly at his pursuer.  He stared into the inky black void and saw every mistake, every bad compromise, every opportunity for a happy ending he’d passed over in pursuit of a fortune that would ensure his family prospered forever.  He saw the infinite years of roads not taken.  All the while, the void slithered around and into him, oily and thick and colder than any winter in White Agony Creek.  He didn’t struggle, didn’t scream, simply accepted it.

He’d stopped running.  He’d looked back.

The void swallowed him whole.


End file.
